Everyday I count on the days that are left to go back to my country. When I think of going back, it means staying there forever, not just for vacation. But I know it, and everyone knows it. I can’t. The people who are staying, still fighting, like my parents, I admire them. The people who left, chasing after new dreams in another country, like me, I understand them. Leaving Venezuela is like getting divorced but still being in love. It’s been so hard to me to understand that I can’t go back now, that I have to get a higher education in another country, that I could only go back when things turn good. And that is all because the insecurity, shortage of daily products, and where there is no justice for people. I know that someday it will change, but for now… I gotta move on.
